“If I put my hands on you to dance, everyone would know that we do far more than play harp together.”
“Why? What do you mean?”
Finn sighed. “Eva, every time I touch you, every time I’m this close to you, it’s all I can do not to throw you onto the ground and show you far more than a simple kiss. Trust me, no matter how hard I try, I won’t be able to hide how badly I want you.”
“Well,” she breathed, “that certainly is the most flattering way to refuse a lady.”
“’Tis the truth. Otherwise, I wouldn’t refuse you.”
Eva shivered again and Finn hugged her against him, kissing her hair and inhaling deeply. “You need to get back inside,” he chided. “What message shall I give Dallan?”
She pulled back to look at him, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Is he going to punch me when I relay this message?”
“Probably not,” she replied seriously. “Tell him I wish him well in the trial, and I hope a spear catches his arm.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“If he’s injured, he won’t be able to continue with his misguided efforts at heroism. I don’t need saving. He does. And that spear is my best bet, assuming it doesn’t kill him.”
“Very well,” Finn conceded, helping Eva to stand and guiding her toward the path. “Let us depart so I can relay your well wishes for your brother.”
Halfway up the path, where they normally part ways so as not to be seen walking out of the forest together, Eva turned to Finn one last time. Even in the shredded moonlight, Finn knew her face had gone pale.
“Please be careful tomorrow,” she said softly. “I can’t lose you, too.”
Chapter Nineteen
The morning ofthe trial, Eva walked with every member of the household to the practice field to watch the event. She had hardly slept the night before, between remembering Finn’s kiss and worrying over him and her brother. The hilltop buzzed with wagers as to who would pass this difficult and dangerous test of skill.
For her part, Eva estimated that this trial would reduce the number of competitors by half or more. Even if men weren’t killed, she knew the likelihood of injury was great, and not everyone was skilled with a shield no matter how hard or long they practiced.
The clear, bright morning, crisp but warm, stood in stark contrast to the seriousness of the day. Eva sat beside her maids at the front of the crowd. Most folk brought woolen blankets to cover the damp ground beneath them, but Eva and the other ranking nobles in the keep had stools carried out to sit upon.
The look of the field sent chills down Eva’s spine. Even as a means to test a warrior’s skill, this particular challenge had an air of the morbid to it. Each of the forty-two remaining men had dug a hole as deep as their waists. The men were tested three-at-a-time. Though their numbers were such that they could accommodate four, three was chosen as it is a sacred number in the hopes of bringing luck to the men.
The first group of three men jumped into the holes they had dug. The rest of the men quickly buried them in, so that they could only move from the waist up.
So that they couldn’t move out of the way of the spears.
The only way to survive was to use the shield and staff each man held to deflect the spears.
Three groups, each with nine men, armed themselves with spears and counted out five paces—near enough to make a good, accurate throw without being too close. As the spear-throwers formed a line and raised their weapons, Eva sent a silent prayer of thanks that Finn wasn’t in the first group of defenders.
On Broccan’s signal, one after another down the line they cast their spears, waiting the space of a breath between each throw. ’Twas absolute chaos.
The sounds of shouting, cheering, and splintering wood assaulted her ears in a cacophonous roar.
At first, Eva tried to watch all three men defend themselves. Her eyes followed the first spears thrown at each, but by the time she’d looked back to the first defender, she started missing many of the throws. The entire ordeal was over in a matter of minutes—so much quicker than she’d expected.
It had taken weeks of training and a morning of digging for their fates to be determined in mere moments.
When the last spears had been thrown, the men rushed forward to help the defenders out of their holes and to check them for wounds. The first man had been cut on his arm. The third had a gash on his side. The man in the center wasn’t moving. A spear had struck him straight in the chest.
All three of the first men had been eliminated from the trials, and one of them had lost his life.
What would happen if no one passed? Eva wondered if Brian had planned for such a possibility.
